


Lava

by sifuamelia



Series: Rewrite the Stars [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Day At The Beach, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Stolen Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 08:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13004004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifuamelia/pseuds/sifuamelia
Summary: Keith's secret mission is nearly ruined when he accidentally bumps into Lance at a market on an alien planet......but maybe it won't turn out to be such a bad thing.





	Lava

**Author's Note:**

> https://youtu.be/uh4dTLJ9q9o

_I have a dream_

_I hope it will come true_

 

“Watch where you’re going, Kogane!”

Keith didn’t even need to turn around — he’d know that voice _anywhere_. Obnoxious. Boastful. Overflowing with swagger. Often foul-mouthed. And, worst of all, far too good to be true.

(Not that he’d ever in a bazillion lightyears admit to _that_.)

“I could say the same to you, McClain,” he muttered, swinging his arm in a frustrated sort of manner. Lance hadn't exactly collided with him hard enough to bruise, but he could still feel the impact of it, seemingly down to the very marrow of his bones—

“Got something to say, Chief?” Lance asked, barely concealing an amused chuckle.

“I _told_ you, don’t call me that,” Keith replied, trying to keep his tone as cool as ice (a remarkable feat for the hothead that everybody and their mother seemed to take him for). He finally twisted in his tracks to face Lance — the other boy’s skinny arms were filled to the brim with brown paper bags.

“Wait a minute... What’s all _that_?”

“Wow, touchy _and_ nosy. I can see why you didn’t have any friends back at the Garrison.“

“I had Shiro!” Keith exclaimed, exasperatedly throwing his hands up in the air. _Dammit._ As per usual, Lance had gotten to him (and he'd barely had to try, which made it all the more infuriating). “And you seem to think he’s God’s gift to humankind.”

“Family doesn’t count,” Lance countered, shaking his head, shaggy hair flopping every which way. A strand fell into his eyes, and it took every ounce of Keith’s self-control not to reach out and push it away. “Family’s obligated to stick around, no matter what.”

Keith bit his lip. _Not always._

“Hmph.” He glanced down the rest of the wharf — it was high noon, the twin suns of Planet Skerth casting dizzying bursts of light across the waves lapping its sandy beaches. Children were running up and down the rough wooden boardwalks, hollering back and forth at each other as their paper kites soared through the salty air. But the contact still hadn’t showed.

“Well, have fun with, er… whatever you’re doing,” he said over his shoulder, already stalking away. Maybe Kolivan would have a better idea of when the guy was supposed to show up? He could call up to command, get more intel—

“Wait, uh, Keith!” Suddenly, Lance was at his side, keeping pace with him despite his veritable mountain of bags. “Why’re you... Why're you here? Last we heard, you were on a mission.”

“I am,” Keith responded shortly.

“What—?”

“Top secret.”

“But—!“

“Do you need help with all that?” he interrupted.

Lance’s mouth opened. Closed. Considered. If Keith wasn’t so annoyed with the way that this day was turning out — late contact, sweaty black jumpsuit, accidentally running into the one person in the entire expanse of the universe who embodied everything that he’d lost over the past few months — he would’ve laughed at the other boy’s flabbergasted expression.

“…Maybe,” Lance finally admitted.

“Headed back to the castle?” Keith asked, already busying himself with removing some of the bags from Lance’s overflowing arms.

“No, just a pod,” Lance explained. It nearly made Keith sigh aloud with relief — he didn’t want to go to the Castle of Lions. Every time he saw Shiro and the others (well, excluding Slav — that guy ticked him off almost as much as the Galra did), it made returning to the Blades all the more difficult.

“Don’t tell anybody I’m here, by the way.”

Keith stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re alone?”

“Ye-es,” Lance admitted slowly.

“That’s not particularly safe,” Keith grumbled.

The other boy raised a single eyebrow — it was a talent that Keith was secretly _insanely_ jealous of. “Worried about me, huh?”

“Get stuffed.”

Lance grinned at him. It was a shit-eating grin, the kind that Keith absolutely despised… and was always hopelessly entertained by. “Okay, Chief.”

“Let’s just get rid of these packages, okay?" he said gruffly. "And then I can get rid of you, too.”

“Hey, man, you’re free to go at any time—“

“Not when you’re completely defenseless, I’m not. What kind of idiot walks around without their bayard these days? Jesus...”

 

* * *

 

_That you’re here with me_

_And I am here with you_

 

“So, what exactly are you doing here on Skerth? Blades get vacation days, or something?”

“Yes,” Keith deadpanned. “We get days off from fighting an intergalactic war.” They were walking back into the market town after stashing Lance’s pile of packages in the trunk of one of the castle’s shuttle pods, and he gestured widely at the sunlit coastal scenery.

“I picked the beach.”

“Wow,” Lance said, adding an impressed whistle for dramatic effect. “Marmora HR is _way_ better than ours. Those Alteans aren’t particularly generous. We don’t even get a dental plan.”

“You’ll be fine, your teeth are perfect,” Keith replied absentmindedly. But after a few moments, he registered the expression of surprise on Lance’s tanned face, so he hurried on with, “Everybody’s doing well, then, I presume?”

_Nice save, Keith. He'll totally forget **that** one._

“Y-Yeah, I guess,” Lance mumbled. “It’s just, well…” He shook his head again.

“Never mind.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. You… You’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Just spit it out, Sharpshooter,” Keith said tiredly.

“‘Sharpshooter,’ huh?” Lance winked at him, but his expression quickly sobered up. “Well, I guess… Everything’s changing. And I…" He sighed, eyes drooping.

It was in this moment that Keith noticed how long the other boy's eyelashes were — they were skimming the sharp bones of his freckle-dusted cheeks. And _damn_ , was it inconvenient timing, because Lance looked upset, and he really should be focusing on _that_ , not just some stupid eyelashes on a stupid face—

"I don’t really do the whole 'change' thing," Lance concluded dully.

“Really?” Keith could feel his nose wrinkling in surprise. “But you connected with your lion so easily, way before the rest of us did." He shrugged awkwardly, rubbing forcefully at the back of his neck as he did so.

"I thought you got used to all this, uh… _stuff_. So quickly.”

“You think so?” Lance eyed the beach contemplatively. “It’s weird, but this place looks just like Cuba.”

Keith followed the other boy’s gaze toward the sand and surf. “I’ve never been to Cuba.”

Lance shrugged. “Most people haven’t. But take my word for it, it’s a lot like this. Just like a postcard from paradise.”

“It actually kind of looks like Japan, too, come to think of it,” Keith suddenly recalled. “If you go north of Miyako, there’s this tiny island where Shiro’s parents used to take us snorkeling. All white sand and palm trees. And the water was just like this… You could see every little shell underneath it, straight to the bottom.”

He realized then that Lance was staring at him, so he quickly added, “Just kiddie stuff, though. I haven’t been there in years, though, so it’s, you know… different. I guess.”

“Home is home,” Lance remarked quietly. He coughed slightly, the stare broken. “I’ll tell you what I’m doing here if you tell me what _you’re_ doing here.”

“You first.”

“Doubtful!”

“What—!”

“You’re gonna cop out,” Lance complained, tone laden with what Keith knew to be unfounded accusations.

“Have I ever copped out on you, McClain?” he asked seriously, but Lance's expression was so constipated, he let out a slight chuckle.. He couldn’t resist elbowing the other boy in his bony ribs, either.

Lance blinked. “I… I guess not.” He squared his shoulders. “Okay, but you need to keep it _top_ secret.”

“Of course.”

“Seriously, man, I’m not messing around here. Tippity-top.”

“I pinky swear,” Keith said solemnly, reaching out to do just that.

“…Alright, you pinky swore. So.” The other boy leaned in close, his breath tickling Keith’s ear. (He’d put the unwelcome blush creeping across his neck down to the beaming suns’ blazing rays overhead. There definitely wasn't another reason. Definitely not.)

“I’m doing my Christmas shopping.”

Keith tilted his head away, glaring at him. “Wait, that’s it?”

“Hey! It’s important stuff!” Lance crossed his arms over his chest. Without his oversized sweatshirt wrapped around him, it looked even skinnier than usual. “And nobody, I mean _nobody_ , can find out! It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Okay, okay!” Keith raised his hands in as placating of a manner as he could. “I get it. Feliz navidad.”

“Your turn,” Lance demanded, undeterred.

“Also a secret, alright?” Keith said sternly.

“Your wish is my command, Chief.”

“I swear to God, if you call me that _one more time_ —“

“Yeah?” The other boy did that wiggly eyebrow thing again, his entire face sliding into a smirk. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

 _Don’t ask me that question,_ Keith thought mutinously. _There’s a thousand and one things I want to do to you, and I’m pretty certain you wouldn’t like any of them..._

But what he said aloud was, “It’s just some recon. Kolivan set up a contact meeting for me. I’m not sure what it’s for, but…” He pursed his lips.

“The guy hasn’t showed yet, and I’ve already been stuck here way too long. I need to go back.”

“Huh.”

“I’ll stay till sundown, and then I’m outta here.” Keith side-eyed Lance. “...What’re _your_ plans?”

_Please say you're going. You being here with me is making all of this even harder to deal with..._

The other boy chewed his lip, looking thoughtful. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, brighter than the twin suns overhead could ever hope to shine, and it nearly broke Keith’s heart in two. “I know! Let’s get smoothies!”

“Smoothies?” Keith frowned. “What are… _smoothies_?”

“You... You’re fucking with me.”

 _HAH._  Keith coughed, forcing nonchalance as he asked, “Are you making stuff up again? Trying to trick me, or something?”

“No way, Chief. Smoothies are God’s _true_ gift to humankind. No offense to Shiro.” Lance eyed him. “You _really_ don’t know.”

“Nope.”

“It’s a bunch of fruits blended together. Like… a fruit milkshake.”

Keith had had fruit before. He'd also had milkshakes before. “That… That actually sounds really good.”

“You’re gonna try one,” Lance proclaimed dramatically. “Maybe this most joyous of experiences will finally snap you out of your weird angsty emo phase or something!”

“Screw you, McClain,” Keith muttered fervently. “Screw you.”

“C’mon, already, slowpoke! Your happiness is on the line!”

 

* * *

 

_I wish that the earth, sea, and the sky up above_

_Will send me someone…_

 

Five hours passed by in the blink of an eye, and after three smoothies each, they’d somehow ended up strolling to the very end of the boardwalk. The twin suns were beginning to set, the slightly larger one dipping into the boundless ocean, the littler one hovering just above it. They’d both ditched their sand-filled shoes (a completely unavoidable phenomenon that seemed to happen every time that Keith went to a beach, no matter the planet) long ago. With his pants rolled up and his Marmora hoodie tied around his waist, it really did feel like he was on some kind of vacation…

...except for the pained voice in the back of his head reminding him that he needed to return to the Blades before the day was out.

He’d had _months_ to spend with Lance, and he couldn’t believe for the life of him that he’d taken a single moment of those months for granted. Because he was pretty sure that he’d be fine with being stuck in this one forever and then some.

“Well, when I was little, I told my mom I was going to be a firetruck when I grew up,” Lance admitted with the smallest of chuckles as they came to a stop.

“Seriously? Not even, like, a firefighter?”

The other boy shrugged, slumping down on the wooden slats with a _thump_. “I dunno, man. Firetrucks go fast. They have lots of cool water guns. And _everybody_  gets out of the way when they come down the street.”

“Huh.” Keith followed suit, swinging his bared legs above the water, the tips of his toes barely skimming its surface. If he tilted his head at just the right angle, he could still make out their reflections, even in the fading sunlight. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

The other boy sighed heavily, although whether it was genuinely sincere or merely for dramatic effect, Keith was unsure. “Nobody does.” He eyed Keith’s swinging feet.

“What did _you_ wanna be?”

He gulped. “New topic.”

“What? Why?“

“I said new topic,” he repeated.

“It can’t be any dumber than a friggin’ _firetruck_!” Lance exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. “C’mon, just tell me, tell me,  _please_ —!“

Keith muttered something under his breath.

“Pardon?” The other boy was wearing that shit-eating grin of his again. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said _hmmmhmmm_.”

“Keith—“

“Singer! I wanted to be a _singer_ , okay? Christ on a bike.” He angrily fisted his hands into his armpits, staring down at the water. Their reflections had nearly disappeared.

“...Wait, really?”

“Look, if you’re gonna make fun of me—“ he began to snap.

“Why in the fresh hell would I make fun of you?”

Keith looked up with more than a little hesitance — but the shit-eating grin was gone, and Lance’s tanned face was dead serious.

“You’re always making fun of me, McClain,” he reminded him, trying his hardest to keep the bitter note out of his voice.

“Touché.” Suddenly, the other boy was scooting closer to him. “But, y'know, singing’s pretty cool. Cooler than firetrucks.”

Keith toed at the water, poking at its serene stillness. “I still feel like you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not, I swear.” Lance squinted into the sunset, and Keith couldn’t help but stare. Nobody should be able to look that good and get away with it. It was so unfair—

“Here, sing something.”

“Wh-What, why?” he stuttered, his face stinging from the unfortunate blush that was creeping across it. “I can’t actually, you know, _do_ it. It… It was just a stupid little kid thing.” He slapped his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing up what was sure to become a serious cowlick.

“My mom was always doing it, so I thought I could, too—”

Lance ignored him completely. “Just do it, Keith. Sing something.”

“Nope, no way, not in hell or high water.” Keith spread his palms flat -  _time-out_.

But then—

“If you sing for me... I’ll sing for you.”

“E-Excuse me?” Keith spluttered. The blush was no longer stinging — it full-on _hurt_ , a startling rush that was threatening to reach downward to tug his heart right into his throat.

“Don’t make it weird,” Lance mumbled.

For a wild second, Keith wondered if the other boy was blushing, too, but he decided that it was probably just the sunset settling on his cheekbones. _No use in getting your hopes up,_ his mind forcefully reminded the all-consuming tension in his chest.

“O-Okay,” he heard himself reply. Uncertain, unsure. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. What was he doing? What was he _thinking_?

“Okay, fine, I’ll s-sing.”

“Any day, now, Chief,” Lance said, his skinny eyebrows quirking slightly.

Keith rolled his eyes, but his fingers were trembling nervously, tapping rapid-fire across the wooden planks beneath him as he reminded, “But you’re promising you’ll embarrass yourself back?”

“One hundred and fifty percent," the other boy nodded.

 _Well, I guess this is it,_ Keith thought resignedly to himself. Because it really was all over — his composure, his pride, his _sanity_  — and he was officially, certifiably screwed. And worst of all — he didn't think that he minded it one bit.

He took the deepest breath possible, and—

 

“A long, long time ago

There lived a volcano

Living all alone, in the middle of the sea…”

 

* * *

 

“…Why’d you stop?”

Keith blinked slowly. It was as if he was waking up from some kind of dream, except for the fact that he’d never fallen asleep.

The suns had set, but somehow, Lance’s eyes were still glowing, like they were lit from within by some kind of flame, the kind of flame that he could stare into for the rest of his life (no matter how little sense _that_ made).

“I… I dunno,” he mumbled eventually.

“You know… You’re actually pretty good." Lance chuckled awkwardly, scratching at the edge of his long nose. "I... I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Keith replied, but mildly enough. He shifted his legs — the right one was feeling pretty fuzzy.

They were quiet for a few moments after that, with nothing but the sounds of the lapping waves to keep them company. The evening breezes had picked up, just another painful reminder that the Blades would be coming in to retrieve him within the hour. But then—

A clump of his hair had fallen into his eyes, and he’d reached up to push it out of the way, but Lance… Lance had gone to do the exact same thing. And then their hands were touching. And then—

Lance’s fingers slowly closed over his own, and he nearly forgot how to breathe. He carefully side-eyed the other boy — he wasn’t looking at him, just staring out at the darkening horizon. But this time, he was _definitely_ blushing.

“My mom,” Keith tried to explain, but it came out more like a croak. “My mom… That was the song she used to sing, every night. I think… I think it was from an old movie, or something like that, and… Well.” He paused. It was really hard to talk around the fact that he was holding hands with Lance McClain.

“I forget the ending.”

Lance finally turned to look at him, and the flame was now a blaze. He opened his mouth, and—

 

“Oh, they were so happy

To finally meet above the sea

All together now, their lava grew and grew.

No longer are they all alone

With Aloha as their new home

And when you go and visit them, this is what they sing…”

 

Keith just stared.

“I’ve heard it, too,” Lance explained quietly. “It’s a nice song, a good lullaby, even. One of my nieces likes to hear it before bedtime. Back on Earth... I would sing it to her every night, too.”

“You…” He was still staring — hang any semblance of politeness in the face of this moment. “Y-You’re not bad, either.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” the other boy echoed, and his wink was knowing.

Keith bit his lip. That wink was going to be the death of him.

He was finally brave enough to look down at their intertwined fingers. It was real, it was happening, it wasn't disappearing—

“Lance, I…” he began slowly.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Look, I…" _Man_ , was he bad at this. Some distant part of his panicking mind — the part that still had the capacity to do things such as basic reasoning — thought that fighting off Zarkon singlehandedly, without even his knife for company, would be a helluva lot easier than _this_. _Anything_ would be easier than this...

...but nothing could be _better_ than this.

So Keith made up his mind.

"There's something I want..." He groaned inwardly — that wasn't the best way to phrase it, was it. "Uh, I mean! I need, I _need_ to tell you—“ His eyes widened.

“HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!”

Lance — who'd probably been expecting something a little bit different than being cursed at just now — nearly fell off of the dock. “K-Keith, what—!”

A little ways down the wharf, a shadow had appeared. All black, face covered… and holding a purple flare. Just like Kolivan had said.

“It’s the contact,” Keith muttered, reaching for his uniform, except—

“Keith.” Lance wasn’t letting go of his hand, even though he was pretty sure that he’d nearly pulled the other boy’s arm out of its socket when he’d jumped up in shock. “Keith, what do you need?”

Keith stared down at him. Lance's eyes were so bright... and he knew that he couldn't just let them _go_.

And before he really thought about it, before he knew what he was doing—

“Mmph!”

Keith knew that Lance was really into rom coms, and he was absolutely certain that their first kiss wasn't exactly some kind of perfectly timed cinematic marvel. And yet, through the way that their hands threaded even more tightly together, and the way that Lance's eyes were still shining when they pulled apart...

“I'm sorry, I gotta go. I’ll… I’ll call you. Later. There’s a private channel on one of our comms.” He brought their joined hands up to Lance’s flushed cheeks. “I’ll explain everything, okay?”

“Okay, Chief.” The other boy was smiling up at him, and once again, Keith had to remind himself to breathe. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Bye—!“

“Wait!” Lance tugged him back a second time. “Christmas! You need to come and get your present." He tugged a little harder.

"I don’t care how many stars away you are. You… You need to be with your family for the holidays, alright? Promise?”

_He got **me** a Christmas present?_

Keith smiled back at him, more carefree than he had in months. “I promise. I won’t cop out.”

"I know you won't."

And then — another promise, sealed with one more mind-bending kiss.

But then he was gone, tearing himself away to run as fast as he could over the wet sand. The holder of the purple flare was beginning to fade into the distance, but he needed to catch it. He _needed_ to... even though he had absolutely no clue about what he would find.

But he couldn’t let the Blades down.

He couldn't let the universe down.

He couldn't let  _Lance_ down—

 

* * *

 

 _Finally._ He was panting short breaths as he stood in front of the shadowy figure (not exactly his most kickass Marmora entrance, but it would have to do).

“A-Are you K-Kolivan’s contact?” he asked around his racing heart.

The contact nodded a confirmation. He couldn’t help but notice that it was a somewhat hesitant action — was it a lie?

“Look, I…” He assessed the person. Alien. Thing. Whatever it was — its head-to-toe get-up made it pretty hard to tell. Tall, but not too tall. Slender, but muscular. And its suit…

It looked weirdly familiar. Kind of like his own, actually.

“I’m not... I'm not exactly sure what I’m supposed to ask you, to be honest,” he suddenly realized.

The contact flipped its hand to beckon him closer, simultaneously moving into a darkened alleyway between two of the boardwalk’s shuttered shops. Every single nerve within his body was screaming not to follow the complete stranger even further into the descending nighttime...

And yet—

“Keith… Kogane.” Its voice was blurred, distorted by the mask covering its face... and its words sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Yes?” he replied slowly.

“You… You are Keith Kogane.”

“…Yes."

He stepped closer, trying to keep up with the shadow. But then the contact reached out to him—

—and Keith's hand automatically went to the knife strapped to his back, whipping it out in front of him. And whatever the contact was, it nearly jumped out of its skin... but something in him sensed that it wasn’t out of fear.

No — it was out of—

The mask melted away... revealing faintly purple skin, a thick white braid, and eyes like a desert moon.

Keith’s heart leapt into his throat.

“It’s... It's  _you_ ,” he croaked.

"Hi, Keith," she whispered back.

 

_…to love._

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize the song, 500+ brownie points! I linked the lyric video above just in case you want to listen to it. It makes me weepy every time. *SNIFF*
> 
> I wrote this to (1) get out my beach episode feels and (2) expand on two of my biggest HCs: Lance loving Christmas and smoothies. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
